2019 New Years fic
by corneroffandom
Summary: Short New Years fics


Dolph wakes up alone and yawns, stretching and blinking into the gloom casting a grey glow over their hotel room. "Kid?" he calls out, wiping at his eyes until he spots him. Pulling himself out of bed and padding over to the windows, he wraps his arms around Zack and kisses the back of his neck. "What're you doing?"

"Just thinking," he murmurs, as if unwilling to break the early morning peace. "Hey, bro?"

"Yeah, kid?"

Zack doesn't say anything for a minute. "I haven't had a match on Raw all year," he says quietly, lacing their fingers together over his midsection as he mulls it all over. "I'm in the battle royal later, but what if no one remembers me? What if-"

Dolph tilts Zack's face to kiss him, hands warm against his neck and cheek. "You have nothing to worry about," he chides him. "You'll go out there and kick ass like you always do and IF they have forgotten you somehow, you'll remind them. No worries. Alright? Everything will work out."

"I hope so," he murmurs, laughing bitterly. "You probably think I'm ridiculous, worrying about this when you're the one in a steel cage later."

Doloh sighs, then shrugs. "My difficulties don't invalidate yours, kid. Don't feel guilty about it. Alright? I know if I need you later, you'll be there for me, no matter what happens with your own match."

"Damn straight," Zack says, choosing to let it all go for a bit and relax in Dolph's arms as they watch the sun lazily rise on the final day of 2018, big things on the horizon for both of them.

-x

Spud's hands are cool and soothing against Ethan's warm flesh as he shivers, swallowing down some pills unhappily. Replacing the glass of water with one of rich red liquid, Spud smiles wearily down at him. "Juice, sir," he murmurs and Ethan sighs, sipping it slowly.

"Thanks, Spud," he sighs, eyes fluttering as Spud runs his fingers through his hair gently. "I'm... not gonna stay awake til midnight," he confesses, brows furrowing as he frowns. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, you need your rest," Spud tells him softly. "I'm ok with staying in tonight anyway." It's been a long few months for him between all of the drama since TLC, and AOP losing the tag titles, and all of the frustrating changes since the McMahons took over Raw and Smackdown. "I know you'll make it up to me when you're healthy again."

Ethan hums, leaning into Spud's hand and making a soft, contented noise deep in his throat. "I definitely will," he murmurs, closing his eyes and drifting off into a medicated sleep as Spud gingerly reaches over and snags the remote, turning the TV on to a low hum as he watches the ball drop, leaning over to lightly kiss Ethan on the forehead, relieved to feel that he's cooler, once the clock flashes midnight.

"Happy New Year, sir," he whispers.

-x

Heath can't help but be excited. After months of torment, of Rhyno losing his job, of his own demotion to a referee position, everything is back to how it should be. Rhyno back by his side, Heath no longer a referee, back to wrestling on Raw, and Baron Corbin now the one who'd been demoted. He grins happily into the night sky, watching the stars twinkle overhead as he prepares some fireworks.

He stands very still, holding a match out and watching for when the flame catches, until Wade walks up to him and tugs him back once the wick is lit, the fireworks held in a jar about to shoot up into the night sky. "Get over here, ginger, the last thing we need is you singeing your eyebrows off. Again." Wade holds him close and they watch as the fireworks blast into the night sky, lighting it with brilliant colors.

"Think 2019 is gonna be even better than 2018, Brit," Heath hums, leaning his head back against Wade's shoulder. "I mean, Rhyno's back, I ain't bein' forced to referee anymore... Things are lookin' up."

"I think so too," Wade tells him with a small smile. Anything's better than seeing how miserable Heath was for those few weeks after the match he'd been forced to have against Rhyno. "Happy New Year, Heath," he says once he sees it's midnight.

"Happy New Year," Heath responds, eyes fluttering shut as they kiss lazily under the last wisps of his fireworks drifting away overhead.

-x

Seth can sense him, always knows when he's there. Feels it deep inside, an aching chasm when he's not. "What do you want, Ambrose?" He's taunting him, Seth knows, the Intercontinental title gleaming over his shoulder. Brown jacket ugly and overwhelming in the moonlight. But Seth doesn't let him win, stares him down and waits.

Dean brushes past him, a warm tingling sensation creeping down Seth's spine at the miniscule contact, and he swallows down a gasp. "What do _you_ want, Seth?" he asks back, and his voice sounds empty, devoid of everything that Seth once loved about him. By design, Seth knows. Dean's cracked enough over the last few weeks that he has no doubt his Dean is still hidden somewhere in this facade, it's just impossible to reach most times.

Seth wants a lot. He wants his brothers back, he wants his title back, he wants to not feel like a failure, the echo of _This is boring_ in his head on a near constant loop since TLC. He wants... he wants to be standing side by side with Dean on this night, counting down to the New Year and awaiting the promise of another 365 days full of promise, full of new opportunities, full of good times and happy memories, and... None of that is possible now. So he shakes his head and sighs. "Nothing, Dean. I want absolutely nothing."

Dean turns to look at him, a brief flash of confusion creeping past his carefully designed mask. "Yeah right," he scoffs. "You're Seth freakin' Rollins. You always want _something_."

"Nah. The things that I want are all out of my reach right now," he says, choosing to ignore Dean as he steps past him and peers up, lips twitching up just a little as fireworks drift over the skyline, ushering in the new year.

Dean is shuffling behind him, and Seth thinks he's probably walking back inside, but then a hand grips his arm roughly and spins him around, Dean's eyes so very blue that Seth feels like he's drowning in them as he's kissed, not gently, not lovingly, but rough and sharp and passionate, and he leans into it, tangling his fingers in the folds of Dean's ugly jacket, and holds on for as long as he dares, pulling away in one sharp jerk, exhaling roughly and staring as Dean stumbles back, trembling just a little as he drops back against the building.

Seth worries his lip, wants to ask _why_ , and _what did that mean_ and _do you still love me even a little_ , but ultimately lets it go and stares into Dean's eyes. "Happy New Year, Deano," he says softly before turning back around and leaving, weaving slowly towards his car, the memory of Dean on his lips keeping him warm the entire way.

-x

Alberto sits outside of the wrestling ring, eyes gleaming in the half-lit room as he watches Ricardo train one of his many students, the guy having asked for a little extra time despite the holiday. Ricardo being Ricardo, he'd not been able to refuse the guy, so here they are, midnight upon them all. He breathes out when finally the guy realizes the time and Alberto's impatient stare and thanks Ricardo, taking his leave.

"Did you scare my student off?" Ricardo asks, humor in his voice as he climbs out of the ring and joins Alberto by the chairs.

"Maybe. What will you do about it?" Alberto wonders, gripping Ricardo and pulling him close, kissing his nose.

"Hm," Ricardo sighs. "Perhaps make you sleep on the couch until my birthday."

"Until mid-April?" Alberto sputters, pressing his hands flat on Ricardo's lower back. "Wouldn't that be punishing yourself as well?"

Ricardo laughs at him. "I would have an entire king sized bed to myself. Do you understand the pure _luxury_ of it?"

Alberto narrows his eyes at him and Ricardo's teeth flash as he smirks up at his significant other. "Very funny, mi valiente," he huffs, dipping down and kissing Ricardo, digging his fingers in until Ricardo gasps and moans, Alberto licking into him and sending curls of heat through his veins. "But I suppose if you'd rather have the bed all to yourself..."

"Never mind," he says in a daze, swallowing as Alberto laughs, pressing a thumb against his lips and parting them before kissing him again. "Happy New Years, El Patron," he hums once he can talk.

"Happy New Years, love," Alberto responds, grinning softly as he hugs Ricardo tightly, relieved that, despite everything going on, they've survived another year, that he hasn't bungled things up so terribly to lose this.

-x

"The club is gonna be real noisy and bright," Enzo says, leaning in and kissing Cass. "I'm gonna miss ya but I'm glad you're stayin' home and restin'. Doc Zo's orders, huh?"

Cass huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, staring up unimpressed at his boyfriend. "Ya sicc'd my ma on me, that ain't fair, Zo." 

"Nothin's fair in love or war, baby boy," Enzo says, bringing the remote closer for Cass' benefit. "Ya just stay here and rest, yeah? I'll bring ya back somethin' fun if you're good."

Cass groans. "Great," he mumbles. He does respond when Enzo leans in, fingers curling around his jaw, and kissing him deeply. "Love ya, Zo."

"Love you too, big guy. See ya later." He kisses him again and grins. "Since I won't see ya until after midnight, Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," he sighs, watching as the door shuts with an echoing click behind Zo. "Ugh." Turning on the TV with a grimace, he flips through channels, looking for some lowkey way to get through the evening.

The party is great, everyone's loud and happy and this side of drunk and Enzo is lost in a sea of people, wrestling fans recognizing him and demanding pictures or even just yelling insults at him, which he just laughs at, content to carry on the way he has been. But in the quieter moments, when he's alone, trying to get a drink, or when he goes outside to get a breath, inside getting more and more crowded the closer to midnight it gets, the more he misses Cass. If not for his music and the promotional opportunities he was promised there'd be here, he wouldn't bother hanging around but here they are.

Talks to a few people in the music business, charms them the best he can with his hyper determination, and thinks he's making progress when they laugh and take his business cards, but as time passes and midnight ticks closer, he realizes he's not really feeling this party. Hadn't been drinking as much as usual, not socializing with everyone, nor making a fool of himself by jumping up on the bar and yelling loudly to get everyone off of their asses and onto the dance floor. Just hadn't been feeling like it. "Geez," he mumbles. "Ya got it bad, Zo."

So when the clock strikes midnight and everyone's distracted with kissing their significant others and cheering in 2019, he sneaks out.

Cass is half asleep quarter to 1 when the apartment door opens and he stirs, squinting as he lifts a hand and yawns. "Wha-?" He quiets when Enzo drops onto his lap and kisses him deeply, grinning against his mouth. "Zo?"

"Hey, big guy. Party was lame so I decided to come home. How ya doin'?"

Cass stares at him, sleepy and a little sore from drifting off on this couch. But Enzo is home, and he's warm and happy, and... "I'm doin' pretty good, Zo."

"Yeah? Me too," he grins, lightly brushing his fingers through Cass' hair. "I brought ya some champagne, the kind ya like, but I think it can hold til mornin'. Maybe make some mimosas or some shit. Let's get you into bed, huh?" He pulls himself up and lightly takes Cass' hand, tugging him upright and leading him towards their bedroom.

Cass follows in some sort of sleepy relief, only Enzo's quick thinking keeping him from walking face first into the doorframe. "Thanks, Zo," he murmurs, meaning for more than just helping him to bed.

Enzo's eyes are deep with understanding as he looks at him, tucking him into bed. "Any time, big guy. I love ya."

Cass hums against the fleeting, warm pressure against his lips and grins. "I love ya too, Zo."

-x

TJ taps his fingers impatiently as he waits to be connected to a match up, the repetitive video game music starting to grate at his nerves. "Ugh," he mumbles, tossing his controller onto the table scattered with empty cans and bags of candy and causing Pugsley to startle from where he's sacked out under it. "Sorry." He's sitting there, jaw resting on his knuckles as he stares unhappily at the TV when warmth presses into his back and he sighs, leaning back against Neville's chest. "Hey."

"Hello." Neville eases his fingers under TJ's shirt, tapping at his ribs. "No one wants to play on a holiday night, hm?"

"Apparently not," he grouses, leaning his head back to stare at Neville. "How dare people have a life, and places to go, and things to do, and-"

Neville shuts up this melodramatic rant with a slow, deep kiss that causes TJ's toes to curl in his socks, a thrill of need coursing through him. "Is this enough for you to do?" he wonders, eyes closed as he bites at TJ's bottom lip, causing him to gasp sharply.

"Ye- yeah, it'll do," he mumbles, twisting around so he can straddle Neville and properly frame his face with his hands, kissing him intently. "Ah-" he gasps, eyes fluttering as Neville continues to devour his mouth. "...happy new years, Nev..."

"Happy New Years, Teddy," he mumbles. Both are so lost in the other, neither notice when the video game beeps to alert them as a game finally begins, TJ's avatar an easy kill with no one to control it.

-x

Dalton grits his teeth as he stretches his back out in a careful bridge, continuing his unending quest to get his strength back up to where he was before, determined to fight for the ROH title and reclaim it, redeem himself for his poor title reign prior. Brent and Brandon are watching him, ignoring the Pokemon TCG set up before them, and when he falters, they abandon their game and rush forward, Brandon getting his hands under his body to brace him while Brent helps ease him down to the floor. "Dammit!" he gasps, frustration in his voice.

"It's ok," they sooth him tenderly, stroking his spasming back and pressing kisses to his jaw and mouth. "You're ok."

"No, I'm not ok!" he snaps, losing his temper for the first time in weeks. "How will I ever become champion again if I... I never recover completely? How will... anything ever make sense again..." He buries his face in his hands and the Boys exchange uncomfortable looks before hugging him, one on either side of his trembling body.

"Dalton, we love you," Brandon informs him, voice calm and quiet. "And we believe in you. You just have to trust that everything will work out, one way or another. If not _this_ time, then the next. Or the time after that. You fought so hard to become champion before, you can't tell me to believe that you're going to give up so easily if you shouldn't achieve your goal _this_ time."

Dalton hisses through his teeth and looks over at Brandon, eyes tired and so dull that it hurts to stare into the usually vibrant gaze. "I'm just so tired of being in pain," he admits faintly and Brent buries his face in his neck, desperate to comfort him but unsure how.

Brandon's hands are calm, still against his jaw. "I know, baby. I know. But it's going to be ok. You're already doing so much better than you were. I see a lot of that old beautiful fire within you from before everything went to hell. And I know things will become so much better in 2019. I promise you. And Brent and I, we will be by your side every step of the way." They'd jumped at the chance to re-sign with ROH for that very reason, and Dalton seems to breathe a little easier after this declaration.

"We love you, Dalton," Brent whispers and he relaxes even more, curling his arms around both Boy and tucking them in close to him.

"I'm sorry," he sighs softly. "I'm so, so sorry. It's just overwhelming sometimes."

"We understand," Brent murmurs, hugging him back. "You've been through a lot this year. Don't feel bad about losing your cool." He kisses him gently and Dalton smiles against his lips. "We're gonna rule 2019. Starting with your title opportunity in a couple weeks."

"Hell yeah," Brandon agrees, grinning at Dalton as he eases in for a kiss of his own. "You're gonna be such a hot two time ROH champion..."

Dalton sighs, shivering when Brandon touches him, fingers teasing over his work out clothes. "Thank you, my sweet Boys. Thank you both so much."

The three of them settle at the foot of the bed to watch for fireworks, Brent and Brandon content and comfortable in Dalton's arms.

-x

Robbie stares down at the itinerary for Titan Games, worrying his lips between his teeth. He's still sitting there, barely paying attention to things around him, when a title belt is dropped unceremoniously over his lap, startling him. "Bro!" he snaps, before looking closer and breathing out softly when he realizes what it is. "It really does look good on ya," he tells Zema, lifting the Heritage title belt up and handing it back over before turning his attention back to the paper sprawled out before him.

A few minutes pass when Zema pauses in front of him, quiet, still, calm. "Robbie?" he asks and smiles when Robbie finally looks up at him. "How does it look close up and personal?"

The belt surrounds his waist, blocking the worst of his scarring from everything he went through in Mexico, and Robbie stares up at him, suddenly understanding why this matters so much to him. "It looks amazing," he says, giving up on the paperwork and standing to hug Zema. "You've deserved this for so long, Z. I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, R," he breathes out, grinning as the cool leather of his title belt is pressed into his stomach. "So how's it feel to be involved with a champion?"

Robbie pulls back and shrugs, a gleam in his eye. "Dunno what you're talking about, bro. I've always been with a champion." He smirks and leans in, softly kissing Zema. "You wanna hear about Titan Games? I just got some paperwork on it a couple hours earlier."

"Uh, _yes_ ," Zema says around a laugh, following Robbie back to the table and gasping when he's dragged over to sit in Robbie's lap as they go over the papers together. "I'm really proud of you too, R," he says with a bright grin. "Back on broadcast TV and everything..."

Robbie chuckles, kissing him. "Thanks, Z. Really, it means a lot. I hope a lot of people watch."

"They'd have to be dumb to not watch," Zema says, kissing him back. "So tell me who your opponents are." He grins when Robbie rolls his eyes, pinching Zema's side.

"You have to watch like everyone else!" he chides him, laughing when Zema pouts at him. "No none of that, silly . I'm not risking ratings by you knowing more than you should and getting me in trouble." He kisses Zema and turns his attention back to his papers. "2019 is gonna be a busy year for both of us, ya know?"

Zema nods. His release from Impact imminent, and Robbie's brand growing, and so many opportunities ahead for both of them. "I can't wait to see how it all shakes out, bro."

"Me too," Robbie hums, kissing Zema's shoulder. "Me too..."

-x

Ciampa is calm, relaxed, sitting outside of the production truck that he often times commandeers for his videos of messages for the crowd, for Johnny, for whatever come by night opponent who thinks they have designs on _his_ belt. It's chilly out on this New Years Eve but his eyes are sharp, grin this side of cruel, as Johnny approaches, hands in his pocket. "Ah, it's my old pal, Gargano," he says. "Whatever could you want with me, Johnny? Or maybe you wanna get a good look at Goldie here?"

Johnny says nothing, just stares at him. "You feel like you've been talking at walls, huh, Tommaso?" His voice is low, emotionless, and Ciampa sits a little straighter, surprised that this is what Johnny's starting with, the throw away comment he'd made in his last video a week ago. "I've been feeling like that for the last year and a half myself."

"Ok-" Ciampa starts, just to fall quiet as Johnny walks up to him, fingers grazing over his shoulder, purposely ignoring the title belt gleaming under his fingers. "Johnny, what the hell-" He swallows when Johnny touches the scars there, staring intently at them. "Johnny-"

"I'm sorry," he says wearily and Tommaso blinks. "I'm sorry I wasn't the partner you needed when you were injured. And I'm glad you recovered and managed to return, even if things were so awful between us when you did."

"Johnny..." He clears his throat, shakes his head. They had worked together against Aleister, they had partnered together in the Garden for the first time in over a year. Somewhere along the line, his hatred for this man had faded, eased into strangely fond hope that maybe, somehow, they could get back to what they were, especially now that Johnny sees the crowd for what it really is, cheap, fickle, unreliable. "I could've said something at any time, about how bad it all was. But I kept it from you. You... can't blame yourself still for everything."

"No, not everything," Johnny says. "But I knew, after your ankle, and I didn't do anything to reassure you. That I'd only ever have- _want-_ one tag partner my entire career." He looks away. "It's probably going to be my biggest regret in anything. I'm really sorry, Tommaso- I-"

Tommaso moves, grips Johnny by the back of the head and allows himself to touch him like he hasn't in a long time, gentle, caring. Cards his fingers through the ridiculous, thick black hair that he used to like to touch when they were still friends. Family. "Stop it," he says, voice gravelly. "Things have changed, huh? You see the crowd for what they are now. You _understand,_ in more ways than I ever really wanted you to..." He shakes his head. "They lose interest, they don't really care about _us_ , just their own entertainment or their own desires. Who cares if we're tearing ourselves apart mentally or physically to try to make them _enjoy_ something, it's never enough, Johnny. You see that now, don't you?"

Johnny nods, gripping Ciampa by the shoulders, and for a moment, everything that's gone bad between them is forgotten. "I do." Ciampa's exhale tickles, warm and slow against his skin, and Johnny leans in, kissing him. He laughs faintly when Ciampa's mess of a beard rasps against his skin, both ignoring it as they indulge in this reunion. "Do you forgive me?"

"I have for awhile," Ciampa says, the words surprising them both as they come unbidden from his lips. "Do you me?"

"Yeah," Johnny murmurs. "Yeah, I forgive you, Tommaso. I do." They stare at each other, Johnny's lips trembling as he smiles incredulously. "North American champion, huh?"

Ciampa shrugs. "Yeah. What can I say, Goldie wants a friend too."

Johnny's laughter is bright, beautiful. It's the best thing Ciampa's heard in a _long_ time.

-x

Jason is laying on his stomach, fast asleep, when Chad returns home after Raw. He smiles a little and sprawls out on top of him, eyes growing sad as he presses a soft kiss to his neck. No one's quite ready to give up, but Jason's neck isn't responding to rehab like most would like, so he continues producing sometimes. "Hey, JJ."

He stirs, yawns. "Hey, Chad," he says, voice rough with sleep. "What... what time is it?"

"A little after 2," Chad says softly. "Happy New Year, babe."

Jason yawns into the pillows and squints at the clock, humming. "Happy New Year." He rolls over and grins up at Chad, bright and full of light despite how his year's gone. "Glad you're home."

"Hey, me too." Chad leans in and kisses him on the lips. "You comin' with me next week?"

Jason nods. "Probably, they just didn't need me this week. Said they'd let me know for sure in a few days about next week."

"Ok," Chad says, rubbing his nose against Jason's. "Good, 'cause I missed you tonight."

"I missed you too," Jason murmurs, reaching over. "I had these waiting, wasn't sure when you'd be arriving but that's ok, I guess."

Chad takes the bottle of champagne from him and grins. "Yeah, that's more than ok," he says, popping the cork and pouring out two glasses of it. "Here's to 2019 being everything we both could ever want."

Jason's smile thins a little but he nods, eyes bright as he clinks his glass with Chad's. "And more."

"And more," Chad echoes, sipping the bubbly drink before putting his glass down and cupping Jason's face, kissing him deeply.

-x

"New Years," Taven exclaims, spreading his arms out in the brisk evening air as he smirks at Bennett, who is leaning out of the house staring at him. "My favorite holiday." Bennett laughs next to him and he points at him. "You and Maria can keep your ghosts and witches, and snowmen and candy canes. New Years is definitely where it's at. A new beginning? The sense of a fresh start just a few hours away? Champagne and all of those annoying little finger foods? What could be better than that?"

Mike abruptly shuts Taven's rant up by stepping out onto the porch to grip his collar and draw him in, glancing up for a second before leaning towards him, teasing Matt by hovering just in front of his lips, so close they can feel each other's heat. "I'd say Misteltoe is," he says with a laugh before finally giving in and kissing him, feeling Matt's fingers curl around his arms. "Need to thank whoever forgot to remove that."

"Ah, uh huh," Matt mumbles. "Well, Christmas may have misteltoe, I'll grant you that, but you get to kiss at the strike of midnight on New Years, and legend claims that's who you'll be with for the rest of the year, and that's pretty damn good too."

"Mmm. Yeah, ok, that does beat misteltoe a fair amount, I guess," Bennett admits. "But hey, we get to enjoy both in one day so that's pretty incredible, I think."

Matt grins. "Yeah, you're right." He leans his forehead against Bennett's and looks up at the misteltoe gleaming overhead. "It probably doubles our chances too."

Bennett smirks, kissing his jaw. "Not that there was any real concern there," he tells him, laughing when Matt lets out a breathy sort of sigh.

"No, there definitely is not," he agrees, leaning in for another slow, deep kiss that Mike eagerly responds to.

-x

Nakamura is not in a good mood. He's lost his US title, Nakamerica is shattered. And as if that is not bad enough, the McMahons have decided to stop allowing automatic rematches so his chances of getting his title back is lower than it should be. He's grinding his teeth, lost in thought about it all, what he should do about it all on Smackdown the next day, when his phone chirps. He blinks and picks it up, staring at the screen. Although he's tempted to turn it off and ignore the name flashing there, he allows the video chat and blinks at Kazuchika, frowning when the image stutters, then freezes for a moment before finally correcting itself. "Hello?"

"Hello! Happy New Year!" Kazu exclaims and Shinsuke sighs, staring at his friend. Kazuchika hadn't had a great year either, but he looks impossibly cheerful, the sound of water licking at the dock he's standing on distracting Nakamura.

"Are you fishing?" he asks, understanding now why the reception isn't that great.

"Hai! It is slow today, but relaxing," Okada tells him with a wide, teeth baring grin that makes Nakamura's lips twitch upwards as well. "I wish you were here."

Nakamura nods, imagining being by the water, maybe exploring the water on his surfboard, or just teasing Okada while he brags about every little catch. "I wish I were too," he admits.

Okada's eyes sharpen. "Are you well?"

"Yes," he says. "Have you heard?"

"I am sorry you lost your title," Okada tells him. "It is no way to ring in a new year."

"No, it is not," he says, but can't help feeling silly in comparison to everything Okada has lost this year. "But I will be fine."

Okada nods. "Perhaps you can come home for a visit some point soon."

Nakamura hums, staring at the screen. "Perhaps." It does sound nice, especially this time of year. "Happy New Year, Kazuchika."

"Happy New Year," he grins back. "I will send you a picture of what I catch later."

"Of course you will," Nakamura chuckles, shaking his head in fond exasperation before they say their farewells and he leans back, staring out of the window and mulling over what he wants _his_ 2019 to look like now that he's not champion any longer.

-x

Shane has not been talking to AJ much since the end of Smackdown the week before. AJ can understand, he thinks, even though Vince had needled him into it, questioning his passion, the fire within him for this business, for... other things. They exist around each other and Shane's lost in thought, staring off into nothing whenever AJ's nearby. Which is fine, until it's New Years Eve and Shane has to leave to oversee Raw with HHH, AJ stopping him with a hand on his arm. "Are we gonna be ok?"

Shane worries over his lip and shrugs. "I'll address what you did on Smackdown. I have nothing to say right now." He's shut off from AJ, his eyes dark and blank, and AJ huffs, gripping Shane's arms tighter. "AJ, I have to go."

"Look, it was stupid, alright? I don't know what happened, but you heard him, he was pushing and taunting me! You know how your dad is!"

"I know exactly how Vince is, yes," Shane says with an exhausted kind of patience. "I've only lived with him for my entire life. But AJ, I couldn't really pay much attention to what he _said_ when all I _saw_ was my boyfriend clocking him so hard that he fell down. I know he's still stubborn and strong-willed, but he's 73 years old! What if you really hurt him? He could've broken something, he could've hit his head, there were so many things that could've happened..." Shane shakes his head.

"I know," AJ whispers. "I'm sorry. I've just been in a weird place between everything Joe did and said, and now Daniel... It's not an excuse, I just... I feel like i'm losin' my mind..."

Shane stares at him, softing a little. "It hasn't been an easy year," he admits, reaching up to grip AJ's arms. "I understand that. I just need time to think, ok? I'll see you at Smackdown." He leans in and lightly kisses AJ. "Happy New Year, ok? I'll call you later."

"You'd better," AJ breathes out, kissing him back. Shane nods grimly and squeezes his arms once more before pulling away and walking out the door to catch his flight to meet HHH in Michigan. AJ watches him go, biting his lip. It's not much, but it's better than the silent treatment from the last week. He hopes they can move past this sooner rather than later.

-x

"I imagine Rusev is happy," Tamina says quietly, running her fingers through Lana's hair as they half-ignore the TV droning on about the approaching ball drop as 2019 approaches. "Being US champion again and all."

"Yes," she agrees with a grin. "It was a good Rusev Day." She hums, eyes fluttering shut as Tamina's touch grazes down her cheek, along the slope of her nose. "I'm gonna fall asleep if you keep this up," she murmurs.

"That's ok. You're adorable when you sleep." Tamina laughs as Lana crinkles her nose up, sticking her tongue out at Tamina. Tamina's fingers continue to trail, easing down her jaw to rub at her neck and shoulders as Lana sighs and shifts to accomodate her touch a little more.

"I'm always adorable," she huffs and Tamina hums in acknowledgement, rubbing down her forearms. "Mmm. God, that feels good," she sighs, a little sore from her last workout in the gym.

"You feel good," Tamina says without really thinking, rolling her eyes when Lana laughs at her. They sit quietly for a few moments, Tamina softly massaging her palms, Lana watching the solemn intensity on her face, before sitting up and cradling her face in her hands. "What?" Tamina wonders, staring back at her.

"You feel good too," she says with a small laugh, leaning in to kiss her. "I'm thankful you're back and you're healthy, even if you left me to be on Raw. Nia better treat you right over there now that you're an official tag team."

Tamina shrugs, lulled by the warmth of her hands, the gentle look on her face. "She's been ok so far."

Lana beams at her. "I knew I could get you two to work together."

Tamina laughs. "Oh, it was all your doing, hmmm?" she asks, teasing Lana by pressing her hands to her back and pulling her closer. "Interesting. We _did_ work together to get you off of our case then, I guess."

Lana pouts. "Yes, that was quite mean of you both."

"I'm sorry," Tamina tells her softly, leaning in to kiss her. "Forgive me?"

"I suppose," Lana says with a small smile, kissing her back. "Don't let it happen again."

"I won't," Tamina promises, brushing some of the hair out of Lana's eyes and smiling down at her.

-x

Drew grits his teeth and watches as Itami leans in towards Ariya, a sneer on his face as they laugh together over whatever Ariya is watching on his phone. His brows furrow as he storms over and stands close to them, blinking hard when Ariya doesn't react at his presence right away. Finally he clears his throat harshly and both men look up, startled. "Ah, Drew!" Ariya greets him, teeth flashing as he grins at him. "Come here, look at this."

Drew watches some wrestling match on the small screen, barely able to tell who's involved from this angle, unimpressed, and Ariya blinks at his lack of interest. "Hey, man," he says to Itami. "Drew and I have some stuff to talk about, so I'll catch up with you later. Ok?"

Itami blinks, then nods. "Alright," he mumbles, taking his leave as Ariya grips Drew's hand and leads him down to a more secluded part of the hallway.

"What's up?"

"What makes you think something's up?" he asks and Ariya rolls his eyes, tugging at his fingers.

"Uh, gee, let's see, because you're actually _not_ interested in watching a match with Hideo and I, nitpicking all of the things done wrong or how to improve upon what was done right, you barely _looked_ at him, and now you're being distant with me?" He turns and stares Drew in the eye. "Talk to me. I know things have been really busy since I returned, and we haven't spent as much time together, but-"

"Hideo isn't to be trusted," he says suddenly and Ariya stops midsentence, quirking an eyebrow at him. "He's... there's no loyalty there. He'll turn on you as fast as breathing. I don't _care_ about Tozawa, but he did it to him, and I would hate to see the same thing happen to you if you decide to trust him enough to partner up with him."

Ariya laughs, just a little. "Drew, we don't really have a lot of room to talk about betrayal and loyalty, do we? We both turned on Nese. You turned on Kendrick a couple of months ago- and by the way, if you want to be concerned about loyalty, look how easy it was for Gallagher to turn his back entirely on Brian. Instead of warning me off from getting in deeper with Hideo, ya might want to look into that a bit more."

Drew closes his eyes. "I just... I care about you, Ariya, and I don't want you to risk your recovery on something that's not a sure thing."

"You care about me," he says slowly. "You have a weird way of showing it, Drew, honestly. I had to wait until we got _home_ for you to even acknowledge my return. I was waiting _all_ night for you to come to me backstage and say something, _do_ something, and there was nothing, absolutely-"

Drew's lips on his cut him off suddenly and he sighs, gripping Drew's collar. "I didn't know what you were doing with Itami," he says after pulling away slowly. "I didn't want to disrupt your plans, or cause drama where there didn't need to be any. I'm sorry, I just thought you'd appreciate the space."

Ariya rolls his eyes. "You're my best friend, man. I love you and I could've really used your support that night, instead of just sitting around and waiting, listening to everyone else talk and bustle around me. You know?"

Drew sighs. "I'm so sorry. I really am." He hesitates. "Look, I don't really believe in them but this is my New Years resolution- to work on being more mindful of you and all around more attentive. Ok? How does that sound?"

Ariya smiles. "It sounds alright. And I resolve to let you know right away the next time I feel slighted."

"Then we should be just fine," Drew says softly, tapping his thumbs against Ariya's face.

"I think so too," he agrees, easing into another kiss happily.

-x

The apartment is quiet, peaceful, New Years Eve ticking ever closer. Brian is laying in bed, snuggled up on a pile of pillows, reading a book without a care in the world. He shifts and stretches, reminded again of just how much he loves having a few days off... when his phone vibrates against the table and he grabs for it, grinning when he sees Akira's name on the screen. "Hey buddy! How's it going?" He pointedly ignores the grumble next to him and watches the screen as his friend grins back at him.

"Going well! Brian, they are giving me a title opportunity!"

Brian blinks, ignoring the tension coming from the other side of the bed. "Yeah, man? That's fantastic! Wednesday night, or...?"

"No, no, it- uh. I wrestle Gulak for an opportunity to be in Fatal Four Way at Royal Rumble." Tozawa thinks over what he said for a moment, looking for imperfections in his English, before grinning so widely that it nearly takes up the entire phone screen.

"Gulak, huh?" Brian mumbles, glancing over for a moment before turning back to the phone. "Well, tell ya what, when I arrive, we'll do some prep for the match. Get you all warmed up and good to go long before you have to go out."

"Thank you!" Akira says cheerfully. "See you then!"

"See you," Brian murmurs before putting the phone back on the table and rolling over to face a cranky looking Jack Gallagher. "Soooo," he says.

"So," Jack says drily, turning a page in his own book and trying to make it seem like he's been reading this entire time instead of listening intently to the video chat going on next to him.

"If you get any more angry, you're gonna burn that book to cinders," Brian laughs, taking it from him and pressing closer to him. "Then what will you do?"

"Get another, I suppose," he grouses, his lips twisting into a sneer as Brian leans against him, eyes fixed on his face. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Debating if you're mad at _my_ friend getting to defeat _your_ friend- _again_ \- or if you're just jealous that he called me during our day off..." Brian's eyes gleam mischeviously as Jack shakes his head and huffs, slamming his book shut viciously.

"A, Mr. Gulak will _not_ be defeated by Akira Tozawa, no matter what you may do to prepare him, and B, what in the bloody hell do I have to be jealous about? You're in bed with _me_ , where you have been the better part of the last few days."

Brian laughs, his breath warm against Jack's arm. "You have a point," he admits. "Still doesn't explain why you're so mad."

Jack grits his teeth, staring incredulously at Brian. "Fine, I'm jealous, are you bloody happy now! Why would he call when he bloody well knows we're at home-"

"Ah, ah-" Brian says, Jack glowering at him even harder at the sounds resembling his tag partner's chant. "He wouldn't know that you're with me. As far as he knows, I'm all by my lonesome. Right?" He eases up and hovers in front of Jack's face, glancing from his lips to his eyes. "As long as you're working with Gulak, no one's gonna know that we're still a _thing._ That's what we agreed on. Right?"

"Right," Jack gives in after a moment. "I suppose I just assumed since you two are _besties_ and all."

The sarcasm in his voice makes Brian roll his eyes. "Oh, please, Jack. The difference between Drew and Akira is if I _did_ tell him, he'd be worried for me, but he'd support my decision because he's a good guy. Good enough to forgive me for all of the bullshit I put him through, anyway."

Jack makes a face but finally tangles his fingers in the soft blond hair, kissing Brian hard. "If he calls again, don't answer. I want you all to myself until after New Years. Understand?"

"I guess I can make that work," Brian hums, kissing Jack back.

"I still haven't gotten used to you without facial hair," Jack sighs, running his fingers down Brian's face.

"At least we have some time left over to work on that," Brian muses, running his fingers through Jack's hair before gripping the back of his neck and kissing him deeply.

-x

A lot has changed in the last year. They fit together better now than when things were still new and they were almost uncomfortable in each other's presence. Aleister lifts his hand and Dream smirks, resting his palm smooth against it, their fingers lightly curling together as they watch the stars flicker overhead, the moon bright and beautiful on this night. "Another year, come and gone," Dream murmurs.

"Yes," Aleister says, warmed by Dream's presence. "What a year it has been, as well." Not a terrible year, but not a great one either, somewhere in between. He had been champion, he had lost, and he had been brutally injured while Dream was treated like a possible culprit.

"Hmm," Dream sighs, not sounding too pleased with it either. He had won some matches, but ends another year without a championship to his name nor seeming any closer to being put on the main roster, which Aleister knows frustrates him.

Aleister smiles slightly as Dream rests his head on his shoulder, shifting until the side of his face presses against Dream's hair. "Alright?"

"Mmm hmm," he says softly, lips twitching upwards when Aleister lifts his hand and lightly kisses his knuckles. "At least one good thing came from this year."

"Mmm," Aleister nods. "Us."

"Yeah. Us." Dream sighs and stares up at the sky. "Think we'll still be happy like this next New Year?"

"No," Aleister says, feeling Dream tense up and start to pull away, wounded and uncertain. "I think we'll be even happier."

Dream huffs, swatting him across the midsection hard enough to make him gasp. "Jerk," he mumbles, settling back in against Aleister.

"Yes, but I'm your jerk," he says quietly, kissing the top of Dream's head. "For this year, and the next, and every other past that, if you'll have me."

"I suppose, if I must," Dream says, barking out a laugh when Aleister's aura flares briefly before easing off, Dream's long slender fingers stroking along his before squeezing his hand. "I love you."

"I love you too," Aleister murmurs after a moment, eyes clear and bright as he looks back up at the stars, eager for midnight, and what 2019 will bring.

-x

"A moment of Bliss," Mickie says from behind her, startling Alexa who turns sharply to look at her. "And your first guest is Ronda Rousey herself. I wonder what you could possibly have to say to her, Lex."

"It isn't that big of a mystery," Alexa says with a small laugh, looking at herself in the mirror, touching up her makeup. "I'm just glad I get to do _something_ since the McMahons took over and everything..." 

"Oh please, you knew they'd figure out something for you. They love you." There's no passion in the comment though, just a vague observation, and Alexa turns to look at her with a frown. "What?"

"Are we ok?" Alexa wonders, stepping closer to Mickie.

"Why wouldn't we be?" she wonders, hands on her hips as she frowns down at her friend. "I mean, the last time we were on TV together, you were yelling at me for doing something you and I have only done a couple dozen times together, and now that you've lost your position of power, it's like that's never happened and I'm supposed to just forget it. You made me feel like the last year didn't matter at all, Alexa. So what am I supposed to expect? That you'll invite me onto your show and totally give me the what-for again? I thought we meant more to each other than going down this road again."

Alexa blanches. "I apologized for that, Mickie. And I will continue to until you believe me," she says. "If the schedule works out, I'd love to have you on my show before the Rumble." She reaches out and grips Mickie's hand, dragging her closer. "Please don't be mad at me. It was just me reacting in the heat of the moment. Ok? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything else. I'd rather not go into the New Year with this hanging over us."

Mickie sighs. "Fine. But just remember, Lil Miss Bliss." She tugs Alexa flat against her and brushes the wild blonde hair out of her eyes, gripping her jaw tightly. "At the Royal Rumble, it's gonna be every woman for herself... so don't take it personally if I see an opportunity and I take it."

"Same," Alexa says, a bit breathless and wide eyed as she peers up at Mickie.

"Wouldn't expect anything else from ya," Mickie says, leaning in towards her just for Alexa to hop up, wrapping her arms around her neck and legs around her waist, meeting her halfway and kissing her hungrily, sighing as she tangles her fingers into Mickie's long brown hair.

"I missed you," Alexa breathes out, and Mickie sighs, bracing her with both hands flat against the curve of her spine. "Tell me you missed me too. Please?" 

"I missed you too," Mickie mumbles, leaning into Alexa as she kisses her again, the two of them losing themselves in this moment. "Dammit, Alexa..."

"I'm sorry," she repeats herself between each kiss. "I'm so sorry-"

"You're forgiven," Mickie grouses. "Now stop apologizing like a broken record and just _kiss me_ already."

Alexa exhales shakily before eagerly doing so with a happy gleam in her blue eyes.

-x

It's a big step. The unknown is stretching out before them and Kaz isn't sure how to feel- a mix of nerves, happiness, hope, dread, fear. But Christopher is by his side, and a group of other people all putting their everything into this, to be _legit_ competition. It's terrifying and it's perfect all at the same time. "Think we're going to be ok?" he finds himself asking, turning to look as Chris observes the sunset before them.

"Sure we are," he says. No lack of confidence in his stance, in his voice, in anything. "I mean, we've all worked carefully on this, the money's there, the talent's there, the opportunity's there. If we're careful and don't let our egos get in the way, why not, you know?"

Frankie nods, envying him his calm belief in all of them. "If I forget that, you're gonna remind me, right?"

Christopher stares at him for a moment, then punches him lightly on the shoulder. "Of course I will, Frankie. There's absolutely nothing to doubt... and if something goes wrong, we'll figure it out. Like we always do."

Frankie exhales deeply. "Yeah. Of course. You're right." He claps Christopher on the arm, letting his touch linger there. "Thanks. For everything."

"Everything?"

"Well, wanting me to come along with you on this journey. It probably would've been easier on your own, less drama and everything, but you-"

"Hey," Chris says, his voice a little sharp. "I've never not wanted you by my side, man. We're tag partners. That's never going to change, no matter what company I work for."

Frankie breathes a little easier. "That... yeah, of course." He chuckles. "The feeling's mutual, man."

Chris nods, nudging him lightly. "Now come on, let's enjoy our last few hours before everything changes."

Kaz chuckles. "Yeah, let's," he says, turning his attention back onto the bright colors bleeding the sky red, orange and purple.

-x

Aiden can't help the moment of pride flashing through him when he sees Rusev win. _He_ had had a hand in that, no matter what people say or do. _He_ had been by Rusev's side through the lowest of lows, and now he gets to watch from afar as Rusev slowly ascends the ladder of success again. _He_ had loved Rusev enough to let him go, to accept his defeat and disappear, to let Rusev pick himself back up and carry on like he always will, because it's just how Rusev is.

So it's against every plan of his when he sees Rusev out of the corner of his eye, staring at him, US title gleaming on his shoulder. He swallows hard and turns away, eager to put space between them, keep from this devolving into another fight, be it verbal or physical. But Rusev doesn't let him go, calling out to him. "Aiden!" His voice sends a shiver down Aiden's spine and he exhales roughly, turning to look at him. "We're no longer friends," he says slowly. "But I saw your tweet, and... you are not entirely wrong. I owe a lot of this to you. You gave me focus and the intensity to succeed."

Hours spent talking and laughing, training together, working to be better, faster, leaner, more muscular, whatever they thought might get the attention of the general managers and other higher ups to give them opportunities. It had worked for Rusev, and not so much for Aiden. He shakes his head, about to say something, when Rusev talks over him.

"I just wanted to say thank you for the parts of our friendship that were good the last year. And I hope things get better for you too in 2019." Rusev stares at him with a tight look on his face before shouldering his title and turning to go to the ring and acknowledge the crowd, discuss his victory.

Aiden turns his back on the TV and prepares to leave to find somewhere to spend the last few hours of New Years Day, his shoulders slumping as he's unable to find the will to hang around and watch the segment with his former best friend any longer.

-x

Keeping his eyes open are becoming a struggle for Pete Dunne. He'd been traveling from country to country, first to compete at the Garden in a ten man tag, then all over the place, finishing up his last indy dates before officially signing his NXT contract, to be a full-fledged talent of the UK division. It had been a big decision, one he had not made lightly- because he _wants_ to be used more on the main NXT show as well, so he'd decided to move to the States, live there permanently and flying over for the UK events. But he's already jetlagged and fighting just to put a foot in front of the other as he trudges down the hall to the bathroom, where he hopes to splash some cool water over his face.

But then someone steps in his path and he groans, barely able to find the strength to look up. "Hey, Pete." He recognizes the voice and only groans louder, grimacing when Ricochet laughs softly. "Need some help? You look wiped off of your feet here." His bag disappears and Dunne does look up at this, lips parting in shock, but Ricochet tosses his bag over his shoulder and continues walking like it's nothing, whistling happily.

"I, uh," he grouses, trying to keep up with the man's gait. "I need to speak to Mr. Regal."

"I'm sure he'd rather speak to you after you look a little less like roadkill," Ricochet says cheerfully, finally finding an empty room with a cot in it and sweeping the door open. "Here ya go. Hopefully someone doesn't injure themselves and need this or something."

"I'm not-" Dunne starts to say before finding himself getting pushed down onto the makeshift bed. "Dammit-!"

"You're jetlagged and you need a dark room and quiet comfort, more than you need to force yourself to stay awake long enough to struggle through a business meeting. Just take some time and you can take it from there on what you do after that."

Dunne grimaces and grumbles, huffing. "I hate you," he mumbles.

Ricochet just laughs, taking none of it seriously. "Happy New Year to you too, man." He reaches out but Dunne grabs his fingers.

"If you even _try_ to tuck me in, I will break all ten of them," he warns him and Ricochet quickly retreats, lifting his hands.

"Fine. Fine. Just... try to get some sleep, alright? You'll feel better for it." Ricochet turns to leave, glad to hear Dunne shifting against the cot, getting comfortable, when he speaks up.

"Do you think..." He freezes when Ricochet turns to look at him, clearing his throat. "Do you think I've made the right decision?" Finishing up his obligations and turning his entire focus onto NXT: UK, even signing a contract. He thinks he knows the answer, but part of him really, really needs to hear it said.

"Yeah, man. I don't regret my choice, and I doubt you will either," Ricochet tells him. "But you will regret not getting some sleep right now."

"Yeah, mum," he grouses, but can already feel his eyes fluttering shut. "Hey, Ricochet?"

"Yeah?"

There are a number of things he could say to the man- _I still want your North American title..._ or even the more simpler _Thank you_...- but what comes out, in a half-asleep slur that makes his accent sound even more ridiculous, is, "Happy New Year."

"Hey, Happy New Year to you too," Ricochet's response, amused and quiet, is the last thing Dunne remembers before completely fading off into a deep, exhausted sleep. "Rest well, Pete," he mumbles before leaving the room and shutting the door securely behind him.


End file.
